2nd Batch of Ko-Fi Fics: 7th Fill

Reaper76 – hole in the wall; sloppy seconds – Jack cleans hole-in-the-wall Gabriel after a long day at work

This isn’t exactly Jack’s job. Originally he’s been hired to clean the facilities – scrubbing the floors and wiping down and disinfecting the equipment, among other assorted duties – but he thinks what he is doing now is not too far off the job description.

Those men offering themselves up through the holes… they are part of the facilities too, are they not? Jack has watched it happen long enough, after all. Customers coming and using them just as negligently as they would any of the urinals.

Not all of the employees get the special treatment, though. Only… Only one, if Jack is being quite honest. He finds himself loitering around his workspace most often. Watching that nice, plush ass hang out of the hole, thighs thick enough to crush a watermelon between them; feet on the ground. Always on the ground. This one has never used the stirrups bolted firm into the wall above his hole.

He likes to be on his belly as he’s getting used. Jack has stepped up the second the last customer has pulled out and zipped up, his hand touching the flank of the man sure and firm. He can feel the tremble, hear the muffled sigh on the other side of the wall, and swallows to get his dry throat wet.

He glances at the shining name plaque above the hole. Gabriel.

He’s seen him from afar, he thinks. Standing in the alley behind the business with some of the other whores, smoking and grinning about something. Devastatingly handsome and a lot older than he would have thought. Closer to his own age in fact.

He’s not entirely sure if it was him, though – it’s difficult to make the connect between the face and the ass he’s staring down at, hole fucked soft and sloppy, dripping cum down his taint and along his dangling balls.

Jack swallows again and licks his lips. He wishes this was his cum. His to lick out of that well-trained cunt; soothe the deep ache with his slippery tongue gently dragging against the raw walls.

As is, he takes the wet washcloth and gets to work on Gabriel. He never talks, but he is sure Gabriel must know who is wiping the cum away and cleaning his sac. Jack always is the only one working this late, after all.

His thumb catches against the swollen rim and Gabriel groans behind the wall, his massive thighs shuddering, muscles jumping as he shuffles his feet a few inches farther apart. Offers himself up.

Jack takes a deep breath and allows himself to dip inside, staring down at what he’s doing; jeans clad thighs almost pressed against the backs of Gabriel’s legs like he can shield him from any views like this.

His hand shakes when he pulls his thumb out and instead replaces it with two fingers. His mouth is open, panting, feeling like the worst pervert as he hesitantly fucks Gabriel on two fingers. The reaction is immediate – Gabriel straining and lifting his ass as much as possible with the restrain of the padded hole around his sturdy hips.

It squelches as Jack fucks him; the cum sounding nasty and wet as he tries to imitate with his fingers what he’d love to do with his dick; fucking into that fat ass that his haunting his dreams.

He pulls out once, stares at his hand in a daze as he scissors his fingers open and watches the mess spread in wet strings between them.

Gabriel whines behind the wall, though, and Jack goes back at it hastily, ears burning, feeling like the worst kind of pervert, but needing to do this. Needing to do it for Gabriel.

2nd Batch of Ko-Fi Fics: 6th Fill

Reaper76 – Breeding kink; ABO – SEP breeding program gone right… (~320 words)

The Omega has been a feisty one; growling even out of his nest in the corner, showing sharp, white teeth as Jack came a bit closer, but now he is a lot more friendly – even if it is just to Jack’s cock.

He knows the other soldier vaguely, knows his name is Gabriel, but they haven’t had much to do with one another. Which is going to change now, after the scientists decreed that they were perfect matches.

Jack has never had an Omega as big and muscular as Gabriel. He is a wall of beef and looks at him weird – with a vague sort of pity – when Jack tries to nudge him into position and doesn’t manage to budge him one bit.

He is already presenting all pretty, but the wrong way around; his upper body lowered just so he can rub his face against Jack’s dick and tickle him with the thick goatee and moustache he has.

When he does turn around – after a suckling parting kiss to the tip of Jack’s straining dick – it feels more like he is doing him a favor. The serum does a lot of good for this particular Omega, it seems. Even in heat he is level headed. Snarky. Full of fire as he patiently lets Jack mount up before bucking like a goddamn colt just because he can.

He is an asshole; and Jack is in love.

He gives it to him hard and fast, and Gabriel takes it easily, his ass big and meaty and cushioning the punishing thrusts as he croons and trills like an Omega right out of a fucking porn film; but throaty and deep with a clicking cadence to it that scrapes up Jack’s spine and seems to massage right into him. A slave to this Omega’s whims.

The scientists must be on to something, after all.

2nd Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 5th Fill

McHanzo – service top McCree; Breeding kink, Pregnancy kink – Hanzo wants to get pregnant and Jesse is just happy to help

I’ve left it mostly open to whether it is an ABO verse or something else. you can let your imagination run wild 😛

The muscle of Jesse’s bicep is jumping as he braces himself against the bed with one arm, eyebrows furrowed in concentration to keep himself up and not smother Hanzo while simultaneously curling his other arm carefully around his hips, mechanical hand splayed across his lower belly as he carefully tugs him up into his hips – and onto his cock.

Hanzo groans beneath him, already wrecked sounding. He stretches his arms up over his head, the muscles in his back playing as he moves. His fingers slowly curl into the bedding, hips canting back of their own free will, ass cheeks squishing against Jesse’s hip bones as he stretches himself luxuriously beneath him and takes his cock deeper like it is just an afterthought.

Jesse closes his eyes and grits his teeth, swallowing down the first jittery impulse to fuck in deeper. He releases the breath abruptly and looks around until he can spot the firm, triangular pillow which he fishes closer a bit clumsily and carefully navigates underneath Hanzo’s hips.

“‘S good?” he mumbles; he can’t help how his cock is flexing in Hanzo’s slick, warm grip, but Hanzo seems to love it, purring and damn near yawning.

“Yes. It is acceptable.”

Jesse blows out another long breath and lets his head hang forward, the tips of his hair tickling Hanzo’s nape as he starts up a slow, experimental rhythm.

Slow drag out, until he can feel the resistance of Hanzo’s clenching rim against the flare of his tip, then back in; just as slow and just as deep, the hand not bracing him grabbing at one ass cheek to pull him open farther. Let him get in deeper.

The deeper the better, he thinks, body hot at the thought of breeding Hanzo up. Getting his cum deep into his belly right where he needs it to work it over into something new and exciting.

Hanzo groans beneath him, not as sleepy anymore now that he has a cock in his belly that is stretching his rim wide. He shuffles his knees apart helpfully, seemingly come to the same conclusion: the deeper the better.

The sooner his belly would start swelling, tits growing sensitive and a bit plumper. The sooner McCree breeds him up like an animal, the sooner he can fuck him while he is pregnant, those big paws of his doting over his large, swinging belly.

McCree is making almost no sounds as he fucks; his big barrel chest expanding in deep, labored breaths which he expels in a way that’s almost violent sounding as he fucks slow and deep and meticulous, his balls hot and big and full feeling whenever they gently swing against Hanzo’s perineum.

Hanzo closes his eyes and curls his toes. He likes the thought that McCree has paused his service for anybody else in order to collect for him. He likes the thought that McCree probably wants nothing more at the moment than to hold him down and deep dick him in rough, grunting thrusts, but holds himself back in order to give Hanzo what he desires.

Most of all, he likes the thought of McCree pumping him full and his body to start working with his thick cream. It is a wish come true and from the way McCree’s eyes had started glinting, cheeks going ruddy red with an eager flush as he’s told him – practically commanded him – to breed him up, he thinks it might have been one for McCree as well.

2nd Batch Ko-Fi Fics: 4th Fill

Lúcio/Reinhardt – daddy kink; exhibitionism; mentions of past abuse – Reinhardt has a good boy and shows him off

Originally, Reinhardt had wanted Lúcio on his lap facing their audience, but a look at his face where his eyes had gotten very big and very vulnerable had him change his mind quickly.

Now, he is rather happy about his change of heart, because watching his boy’s face while he slips two warm, slick fingers into his butter soft hole is even better than to watch at the envious faces of the people milling around them.

Lúcio is a true trooper, taking the prickling embarrassment in stride now after Reinhardt as plied him with warm, tickling kisses along his jaw, and endearments whispered into his hot little ear.

In the beginning, of course, he had still been a bit shy; pressing his face against Reinhardt’s neck, his fingers curled around his biceps and gripping painfully hard with anxiety.

Lúcio is a good boy who hasn’t been treated well by people that should have cherished him, and Reinhardt had let him ride out his little panic attack, rubbing up and down his back before his boy had slumped against him, exhausted already and murmuring – begging – for him to continue.

“You’re doing so well, baby boy… They love watching you,” Reinhardt rumbles intimately against his ear, fingers twisting deeper, feeling how wet and hot Lúcio’s clutching walls are; how his rim is twitching around him, trying to pull him in deeper, spear himself more on Reinhardt’s long, wide fingers.

“D…” Lúcio is muffling himself against Reinhardt’s collar; he has been chewing on it since Reinhardt made him take the second digit, but now he turns his head away, presses his sweaty forehead against Reinhardt’s neck and breathes quick and excited. “Daddy,” he whines, and their audience murmurs appreciatively. They step a bit closer, tightening the circle around them, and Lúcio ripples around him and cries out softly.

It is a blessing, really, to be allowed to show him off like this. To have him against him trusting and warm, even though he is so very embarrassed by showing off the stretch of his ass, and the soft mounds of his balls just dangling there between his thighs. There is no chance for him to hide; not with his knees spread wide around Reinhardt’s lap, and his fingers clutching at daddy’s vest for dear life.

Reinhardt hums and lets his free hand squeeze at Lúcio’s neck one last time, gently pushing his dreadlocks over one shoulder to let the others see his muscular back. His palm, dry and comforting, runs along Lúcio’s spine, making him arch like a kitten, pressing into the fingers spearing him and making him cry out for daddy once more.

Reinhardt squeezes one of his ass cheeks, then finally reaches around his thigh and cups the soft sac there, testicles round and firm in his gently rolling fingers. He has to twist his wrist awkwardly to let their audience see what he is doing, but he gets rewarded with Lúcio squirming and puffing hot little “Ah… Ah… Ah…”s against his neck, his hips rutting, fucking his sleek, pretty cock against Reinhardt’s belly.

“Daddy… D-Daddy,” Lúcio whines, voice going a bit high and weepy, his nails raking along Reinhardt’s vest as he squirms and becomes restless, head falling back, dark, docile eyes staring at the ring of strangers that are close enough to touch now.

Reinhardt lets him squirm and whine; it only takes a bit of a squeeze around his testicles to have him stay still enough to get finger fucked, and not try to crawl up on daddy’s shoulder with the sudden restless energy that is coursing through him.

He cries out beautifully when he comes, long and hoarse and arms curled around Reinhardt’s neck like a man that is about to drown, hips jerking back onto his fingers and forward against his belly, jittery as he rides out his orgasm in front of all those watching eyes.

Reinhardt has never been more proud of his boy.

2nd Batch of Ko-Fi Fics: 3rd Fill

Mercy/Roadhog – Anal; Dehumanization – Mercy isn’t scandalized enough to stop him and Roadhog has her number

Without help, Mako can’t see how much he is ruining the slut’s ass, so he utilizes the observation cameras within the medical ward to get a good look at the way her rim pulls out on every outward drag, puffy and swollen and definitely not as cute anymore as it had been before he destroyed her ass on his fat cock.

It isn’t like she does not appreciate the added bonus of being able to see her own whorishness: her eyes are glued to the screen, mouth hanging open, a steady stream of drool slicking out of the corner of her mouth. A gurgling sort of groan drags out of her whenever she sees her rim obscenely bulge outward, her insides twitching and clenching like wet silk, trying to keep the massive dick inside her hot, welcoming guts.

She is naked, stripped with negligent efficiency by Mako, but he couldn’t be less interested in her tits or her cunt – even gaping as it is as she is bend over an examination table, labia open and wet, trying to be so fucking enticing when her ass is already getting destroyed.

He’s looked at her up and down, his eyes just about visible behind the dark lenses of his mask, and she had felt herself gush at how disinterested this… this animal had been, staring at her curves and sounding almost put upon when he finally heaved a sigh and turned her around to bend her over the table and inspect the tight clench of muscle between her cheeks.

There is no finesse in his fucking; he just deep dicks her the way he wants, his huge gut placed on her back for her to carry as he screws himself back into the clutch of her anal passage, then halts for a second, pulls the camera in a way that better captures the action, then resumes.

She put up… no… not a fight. She doesn’t exactly know what she tried to do early on, pushing herself up on trembling arms, her mind blank before the deep, sparking lust she felt at getting her ass spread on dick – but he’s overrode her quick and smooth, big hand on the back of her head as he pushed her back down, voice gruff and sounding on the verge of an asthma attack as he said: “Stay.”

Calm and collected as if talking to a dog, and she would always have to live with the neverending shame of her immediate submission.

Mako, for his part, is suitably pleased with the hole he found. The slut likes to keep up appearances; likes to seem like she doesn’t crave cock every day of the week, preferably fat ones that manage to keep her belly fat and warm, but the truth of the matter is, that it has been laughably easy to get his dick into her ass cunt and she is taking him like an old hand.

At the beginning the whore had bounced mildly, like a rabbit with its hind feet caught, but once his dick was in, there wasn’t much for her to do other than put her head down and watch the action on the screen with fascinated horror.

He doesn’t think that she’s ever seen the obscene way her rim stretches and bulges outward with his thrusts. Not that it matters, really.

The slut’s breaths are quick and hiccuping and he thinks she might be read to come on his cock in just a few minutes more, but he is already there; pausing and grunting vaguely as he pumps her guts full before stepping back, eying the gape of her wrecked ass and how it shines wet and messy.

The slut grunts, delirious from the fucking, oh-so-brilliant brain not yet up to speed with what happens, and he leaves before she can start begging for more dick, leaving her with the warm load in her intestines and the task to figure out how she can waddle into the restrooms to clean herself without getting her precious med bay messy.

2nd Batch of Ko-Fi Fics: 2nd Fill

Hanzo/Team/Jesse – Cuckolding, Cum Eating – Jesse is only good for eating trans man Hanzo out after he fucked his way through the team :’ ) ~720words

Jesse bites his fist watching Reinhardt lift Hanzo from his cock, cunt puffy and shining wet from his own fluids and different loads of cum as it slides along the obscene girth that Reinhardt has to offer.

Reinhardt is the grand finale, as per usual, and by this time Hanzo tends to be little more than a pretty doll for the guys to stick their cocks into.

With Jack he’s been more feisty; pressing him down into the covers and fucking him until Jack’s cock was oversensitive and useless, but after Lúcio and Roadhog and – memorably – D.Va, Hanzo is only hanging onto it for dear life, lying limp and vaguely groaning across one of Reinhardt’s shoulders.

Jesse stares, mesmerized, as Reinhardt’s cock pumps, filling Hanzo up with his massive load, his own cock twitching in pathetic sympathy. God, it’s been ages since Hanzo let him stick his dick in, the disgusted tch still ringing in his ears from last time he’d timidly asked.

You don’t know how to use that thing.

His mouth is hanging open, just barely not drooling as Reinhardt lifts Hanzo further up, the puffy cunt stretching a bit farther as the very tip of Reinhardt’s cock is still lodged inside – and Jesse bites his fist harder when he sees how the sensation makes Hanzo come again; a pathetic little orgasm that has the small hole of his ass clench desperately while Hanzo grunts and Jesse tries to remember the last time he could feel Hanzo come on his dick.

Finally, however, Hanzo is pulled off with an almost audible pop, and then it’s Jesse’s turn while his teammates lounge around the room, watching – or ignoring what’s happening altogether, because frankly at this point, the sight of Jesse crawling between Hanzo’s weakly twitching legs is nothing new anymore.

Up close, Hanzo’s snatch looks even more ruined than from across the room. It flashes Jesse with its tender, brick red insides like a warning sign and his breath stutters out of him in soft, warm gusts that Hanzo has to feel against the wet skin because he groans and fights to get himself onto his elbows to stare at Jesse.

His hole is still gaping, drooling the loads of the team while his labia seem to refuse to close on their own any time soon; puffy and plump as they are after all the attention. It’s Hanzo’s clit, though, that really makes Jesse curl in on himself, belly aching with the acute need to get his mouth around that fat, swollen little cock.

God, but it is a thing of beauty right fucking there.

Hanzo is not inclined to let him sit and appreciate, however. His hand is strong and a bit mean when it grabs at Jesse’s wild hair and pulls him unceremoniously down to suffocate against his cunt, and Jesse doesn’t have it in him to struggle free.

Some of the mess the guys left smears into his beard and he knows he’ll be able to smell cum for the next two days – but that’s part of the allure of the whole thing.

He slurps obscenely while his cock is still tenting his pants, not a chance to get out of there any time soon.

Hanzo’s thick, muscular thighs come up and clench around his ears, and Jesse becomes a bit light headed as he starts sneaking his tongue into Hanzo’s loose pussy, fingers itching with the need to tickle his backdoor as well – though he still remembers last time’s torturous dry spell when he tried doing something Hanzo hadn’t explicitly told him to, so he does not dare to touch again.

His tongue flutters against the swollen, puffy walls, trying to soothe the ache as he drags out the thick loads deposited by teammate after teammate before him.

There’s a sweet tang beneath all the salty slick, and deliriously he thinks this must be courtesy of Lúcio who eats a lot more fruit that the rest of them. His big, crooked nose is bumping a bit obnoxiously against Hanzo’s fat little dick, but when Hanzo’s legs start to spasm mildly, his breath quick and harsh, the nudges become a bit more deliberate, Jesse feeling an almost painful sort of arousal at knowing his nose can do better than his fucking dick.

2nd Batch Ko-Fi Prompts – 1st Fill

Hanzo/Castle Guards; Genji watching ~670 words

Genji is clutching at one of the beams he is crouched next to in the rafters. He had been expecting to find his brother here, today – but not like this.

One of the men ringing him puts his head back, face twisting. Genji’s aural sensors pick up on the small, repressed grunt as the guard comes in thick little spurts across Hanzo’s wrist and against the palm of his hand.

Hanzo’s fingers only tighten around the cock, squeezing, milking, obviously loath to let him go while another steps in front of him and grabs roughly at the small ponytail he is sporting, lifting his head and pulling his eager mouth across the new, waiting dick.

It’s been going like this for a while now; someone stepping away and someone new – or recharged – stepping in, but Hanzo doesn’t look like he is anywhere close to done. His face is lax, eyes half-closed – as docile and relaxed looking as Genji has ever seen him.

He looks like he’s about to play sleepy kitten and lean his forehead against he guard’s belly while he gets throat fucked, and the man – seemingly coming to the same conclusion – rips at the handful of hair and barks at him to “Keep it up, slut!”.

Someone steps in from behind, and Genji shifts when Hanzo gurgles around the cock spreading his throat open as another dick gets rammed into his well-used ass, cunt as sloppy and wet and eager around the new intruder as his mouth is.

“Never thought I’d see this again,” one of the guards pipes up suddenly. Genji shudders, softly padded fingertips digging deep into the wooden beam he leans against. The man using Hanzo’s throat like a cheap fleshlight barks out a laugh and nods. He doesn’t answer, though – instead, he gets a weird little expression before he pulls out a bit hasty, one hand still in Hanzo’s hair to keep him where he is because they’ve all found out he will try to suck them back in if they get their dicks just close enough.

He keeps the swollen, violently red tip just out of reach of Hanzo’s wet, swollen lips, staring down into his dazed, sweaty face as he moves his fist along the sloppy wet dick. His aim is bad, a bit jerky from his heavily heaving chest and the warm orgasm pulsing through him, but he still gets most of the mess in Hanzo’s dark hair and against his forehead, wiping the last few drops against the bridge of his nose.

“What did we say? We’ll let him go if he spreads ‘em good enough?”

“Think so, yes…”

The man fucking Hanzo’s sloppy hole cackles. He reaches down, hand grabbing at Hanzo’s ankle and pulling it up roughly to the side, making sure he holds it in a way that doesn’t allow him to rest his knee against the ground, supremely putting him off-balance as another man bullies him into giving him a handjob.

“But why should we? I mean we could keep him. Have a nice warm hole to dick whenever we want…” He lets his head fall back and takes a deep breath as he presses his hips against Hanzo’s ass, grinding deep, rotating as if he was set on getting the cum deep in his guts nice and frothy. “Fuck- the things he can do with his goddamn ass…”

Hanzo does not look particularly concerned about their bragging. In fact, he doesn’t look like he’s even heard them. He tries to keep from toppling over onto his face, panting with his tongue lolling out, spit dripping from the tip to the ground as he tries to coordinate his hand jerking off the cock sliding against his palm, as well as the new one nudging sticky and obnoxious against his cheek, making sure to wipe the wetness off against his neatly kept beard.

To be quite honest, he does not look like he would mind being kept as a living fleshlight. Genji squirms.

My rebellious wifey @robotfvckers donated me a few coffees for Zenyatta with therapy service top McGoo Q.Q too kind too generous. too rebellious ò.ó

Zenyatta lifts and lowers with the slow, inexorable motion of McCree’s broad chest. He listens to his snoring whenever he inhales; a drawn-out, deep rattle that vibrates through him and makes him feel like he is lying on top of a tiger, or lion – a big, warm cat that has rolled onto its back for him without a hitch. Submitting to the smaller prey.

He starts squirming, slips his smooth thigh up McCree’s body until his hips are shifting against him. He doesn’t want to disturb McCree’s sleep, but he is not down enough to follow, either. In front of Genji it is easier to pretend like Mondatta’s death hasn’t cut him as deeply, but in the night he feels… young and vulnerable. Not as in-control and assured as he usually projects.

There’s a small catch in McCree’s snoring, then he smacks his lips, his mechanical hand slipping from the small of Zenyatta’s back onto his behind, squeezing the supple skin.

“No’ sleep yet?” he rumbles, voice so deep, Zenyatta’s cock flexes, rubbing wet against the broad hip. McCree hasn’t opened his eyes, doesn’t even seem fully awake. He moves on autopilot, easily tugging Zenyatta’s negligible weight until he has the monk seated on top.

“Jus’ secon’“ he slurs, fumbling between them. He is sleep warm, his chest hair coarse and ample beneath Zenyatta’s fingers. He almost wants to be ashamed at his own neediness; wants to apologize – but McCree doesn’t seem put out at all.

He sleepily lifts his dick, the blunt tip pressing against Zenyatta’s still-wet hole – and clumsily tugs at the back of his neck until Zenyatta leans down for some slow, warm, lazy kisses that fill him with prickling, tingling warmth and distract him from the slow, wet slide of McCree’s cock into him.

There’s nothing that could distract him from the stretch and fill for long, though. Not when he can feel McCree’s cock, big and warm, the tip pressing against his belly from the inside, just beneath his belly button.

“There you go.” McCree is barely intelligible. He is pressing warm, wet kisses against Zenyatta’s mouth and his chin and jaw. Everywhere he can reach, and Zenyatta is turning into it like a cat.

He wants to move, but McCree’s big hands are holding his hips still so he can work his cock through Zenyatta’s clenching channel. Slow, sleepy rocking motions as Zenyatta pants warm and moist against his face, breath hitching when the blunt tip presses against his insides especially deep.

He knows if he reaches down he will be able to feel McCree in his belly, but he can’t make himself move. It is nice to be pampered; to have nothing to worry about as McCree croons half-asleep and uses the mess he left in him a few hours ago to easily fuck him once more.

His chest is warm and massive beneath his fingers and when McCree folds his arms around his shoulders, Zenyatta carefully folds his own arms against his chest and lets himself lie down on top of him to get fucked to sleep.

He never knows whether he or McCree ever came, but he does know that he hasn’t slept as deep and peaceful in a long while.

all about experienced domme Midnight and her two boys Mic and Eraser teaching nervous newbie-sub All Might the ropes… and the paddles… and the vibrators… and the aftercare (midnight is a Good And Responsible Domme and you will take this headcanon out of my cold dead dendrites)

They’re like her two well-trained dogs teaching the new puppy, and Midnight can’t help but coo at them, scritching them beneath their chins and tugging at the collars she wrapped around their throats.

AllMight is sitting off to the side, squirming on the soft pillow she put out especially for him, and watches how her boys kneel for her; Eraser straight-backed and perfect albeit tired looking, and Mic a bit too overachieving; shoulder blades a little too far back, practically vibrating in place with his eagerness to serve.

She’s been apprehensive to take herself a third submissive – two are already a good handful – but AllMight is so earnest and studious and sweet that she just had to catch him and coax him into her den.

She can’t bare the thought of him getting into the wrong hands and being mistreated.

She chooses Mic first, because he needs to be put through the wringer before he can truly settle down, and Eraser is patient enough to stay on his place and watch while she gently tucks Mic towards towards the padded stool, walking slow enough that he can crawl comfortably, his face rubbing against her thigh as affectionately as a cat.

She thought it would maybe scare AllMight to see the paddling, but his clear blue eyes are shimmering as he stares, his big mouth not smiling for once as it hangs open to let him pant.

Midnight can’t wait to sit on that broad, strong jaw and have her lick her for hours.

He starts squirming in sympathy when she begins paddling Mic. He is quiet at first, still thrumming with energy, and restless, but she begins getting to him soon enough.

He’s loud – of course he is, it is difficult for him to control his quirk like this – but when it gets to be too much; when he gnashes his teeth and his whimpers slip through in a way that makes bones rattle uncomfortably – he is suddenly very quiet and subdued.

A glance over shows how Eraser’s tired eyes are glinting red as he stares at Mic, and Midnight notes that he will get an extra nice orgasm for being a good boy.

When she’s done; her arm smarting and Mic lying across the stool, whining and exhausted and as languid as she’s ever seen him, she crooks her finger at AllMight, and the big submissive comes crawling immediately. A bit clumsy in his haste but so very earnest.

She lets him cuddle with Mic while she advances on Eraser, catching glimpses of him rubbing his cheek against the warmed-up ass – and his big hand skirting gently between Mic’s thighs who eagerly spreads them.

She smiles, crouching down next to Eraser and slipping one hand into his thick, untamed hair; pulling him close until his head is cushioned on her tits and she can hear him exhale long and slow and relieved as his slim body starts collapsing against her.

“Let’s show him now what a sweet boy you can be for me, hm?”

hmmm… I am not super happy with this tbh; it also kind of ends abruptly, I’m sorry.

don’t want to lament on why; just gonna post it.

contains sph. if you don’t like it, don’t keep reading, please.

Angelo beams at Mr. Shimada, eagerly hooking a foot into his stool and tugging it over so he can sit by the older man. He feels like it is easier to talk to patients as skittish as Mr. Shimada when not holed up behind his desk, though Mr. Shimada’s stony expression doesn’t look like he appreciates the effort.

“I am so glad I could finally get you to come to my office,” he says, leaning forward and elbows on his thighs. He is a big man and usually tries to make himself smaller for the sake of his patients.

Mr. Shimada stares at him practically down his crooked nose and only answers after a beat too long of silence: “I have been threatened to be taken off the roster if I do not comply with your demands.”

Angelo blinks at him, then lifts a hand, rubbing two fingers thoughtfully against the carefully groomed stripe of his goatee.

“While I do not condone threats, I do have to admit that I am quite happy about the result this time.”

He smiles at Mr. Shimada, and Mr. Shimada flinches back just a bit, looking almost dumbfounded for a second before schooling his features back into his stony expression.

“I am healthy. I have no complaints or ailments.”

Angelo nods along, smiling placatingly as he stretches to retrieve his clipboard from his desk.

“I know, I know. This is simply a routine check-up so I can update your folder. I do not anticipate to find anything troublesome, you do not need to be afraid-”

He can see Hanzo’s hackles rising immediately, his already broad shoulders squaring a bit more, wide mouth pressed into a thin, fierce scowl.

“I am not afraid. Of nothing.”

Angelo blinks at him slowly, then uncaps his pen, nodding awkwardly. “OOookay. Yes. No problem. Please excuse my clumsy wording…”

He trails off, sees Mr. Shimada deflate a bit again, and clears his throat. “How about we just start with the questionnaire so we’ll get this whole thing over with.”

Mr. Shimada nods once, regally. “Please.”

.o.

“When was the last time you ejaculated?”

Hanzo opens his mouth, then the question registers and he closes it with an undignified snap, staring at the good Doctor. Angelo is looking down at the clipboard he’s balancing on one knee, pen poised above an empty line near the bottom, waiting for Hanzo to answer like he’s done the past five minutes.

“What?” Hanzo hisses. He can feel immediate heat shoot into his cheeks, which makes him even more flustered.

Angelo looks up at that and blinks at him, then looks down at the clipboard and repeats the question a bit slower: “When was the last time you ejaculated?”

Hanzo can feel his chest burning with embarrassment, arms coming up in a defensive cross.

“I don’t know why you would need to know-”

“It is just one of the standard questions, Mr. Shimada. The faster you answer, the faster I can let you go. You can be assured that everything we discuss here will be handled with the utmost discretion.”

Hanzo grinds his teeth and shifts slightly on his chair, then: “Yesterday.”

Angelo nods, looking back at the clipboard, jotting down his answer quickly. “How often, would you say, do you ejaculate in a regular week?”

Hanzo’s heart is thumping quick and hard. He stares at the top of Angelo’s head. The Doctor waits for him to answer, then looks up when it takes too long, brow knitting.

“Mr. Shimada. I know these kinds of questions can be uncomfortable, but for me they are nothing extraordinary, really. Please. I would love to let you go to the practice range ASAP.”

Hanzo balls his hands into slow fists, lowering his gaze to stare at his knees.

“About… five times.”

“Hmm I see.” The blood his thumping in Hanzo’s ears. The Doctor’s voice is without any particular inflection, but still it feels to Hanzo like he is… judging him. “How many sexual partners did you have?”

Hanzo can feel his temper spiking, fingers curling into his pants. He does not answer, scowl becoming fierce and threatening when Angelo tries to prompt him again. The Doctor’s mouth pulls down. He starts to look mildly annoyed with the situation himself, now.

He taps his pen against the clipboard, the silence stretching between them, and then Hanzo feels like something shifts in the usually kind face.

For a second Angelo looks sly – but it is gone just as soon as it had come, and Hanzo is no longer sure he’s seen it.

The Doctor nods and stands abruptly.

“It is alright. You can tell me later.”

He puts the clipboard back on his desk and walks to the only examination table in his office, rummaging in a little cupboard until he pulls out two thin latex gloves.

“Do you stimulate your prostate, Mr. Shimada?” he asks without looking at Hanzo. Hanzo, having watched the Doctor’s movements across the room with trepidation, feels his heart skip a beat, then gallop in his chest.

“What?”

“Your prostate,” Angelo repeats patiently. A bit slowly like he is talking to a kid now. He has one glove slipped onto his hand and snaps the latex with a finality against his wrist that makes Hanzo shudder. “Are you accustomed to stimulating it? With your fingers or a toy, or…”

“No,” Hanzo hisses, throat feeling tight and dry with rage. “I would never-” He chokes on his own self-righteousness and Angelo speaks before he can bring anything more out; calm and collected: “Alright. Please come here and drop your pants, Mr. Shimada. I would like to perform a prostate examination.”

Hanzo stands abruptly, chair toppling to the floor.

“I will not stand this blatant disregard of my pride,” he growls in cold fury, fingers curled into tight fists. “This is -”

“It is up to you, really,” Angelo interrupts evenly, snapping on the second glove. “I will not force you to do anything. But you will also understand that I can not lie to Winston – and you are quite aware of the consequences of your refusal.”

Hanzo stares at him mute; the Doctor looks back with an enigmatic little smile, gloved hands folded in front of him as he waits for Hanzo’s decision.

.o.

“Hm,” the Doctor hums when Hanzo’s pants fall, tangling between his ankles. He stares at the bulge of his fundoshi until Hanzo turns away and puts his hips against the cold edge of the examination table. He feels dazed; like this is some kind of dream. Or nightmare.

He loosens the knot of his underwear and keeps it in his hand when he brings his arms forward, balling a fist around it as he stiffly bends at his hips.

The Doctor does not give him a second of reprieve. Suddenly his hand is between Hanzo’s thighs, cupping his soft cock. Rolling the ball of his hand against his sac and causing Hanzo to stand up onto the balls of his feet, an alarmed sound caught in his throat.

Angelo makes a considering noise. He is close enough that Hanzo can feel his body heat – and then he is suddenly murmuring, right against his ear: “I see. There’s not much you can do with something like this, I suppose.”

There’s a bolt of heat zipping down Hanzo’s spine, and when the ringing in his ears abates, he realizes with horror that he is getting hard against the Doctor’s cool fingers.

“It is functional at least. That’s a good thing, hm?”

The Doctor pats his cock like a small animal, then pulls his hand away. Hanzo is staring at the crinkling paper on the table, mouth hanging open – caught in a stupor while his ears burn.

Moments later, his cheeks get unceremoniously spread, and then there is another beat of silence.

Angelo grunts softly, something between interest and satisfaction, and then Hanzo jerks forward, rattling the table when cold, wet fingers round his sensitive pucker; tight and kept meticulously hairless in those afternoon showers where he nervously touches the peach pink hole and pulls away before he can talk himself into doing it.

“Deep breath,” the Doctor mutters, but even before he has finished he is already pushing in with a single, long finger.

Hanzo knows, somewhere, that this is revenge for his earlier bitchiness, but as he pulls up onto the balls of his feet again, trying to evade the intrusion, he can’t formulate many rational thoughts at all.

His cock is feeling hot and swollen, throbbing as his muscles clench down and try in vain to force the finger out once more.

“Hmm this is unorthodox,” Angelo comments, “but I figure this is a good opportunity to test whether everything really is in working order. I am not sure it is of consequence for your little… ah… for you, but – I like being thorough.”

Hanzo burns. His eyes are wet with tears, thighs shaking as he can’t help but bear down on the finger. He bends his knees, sticks his ass out, lets his head hang low in abject shame at his own display.

He can’t… He can’t believe…

“Your prostate seems swollen,” the Doctor informs him. Hanzo can feel his finger rounding it, too. Slow and leisurely, dragging circles through the wall of his intestine and causing more tears to jump to his eyes from the sharp, delicious stimulation. “Not worrisome, but I would suggest a more regular check-up.”

Hanzo grinds his teeth.